


Glows like the Moon

by BarPurple



Series: BarPurple's House of Horror 2016 [2]
Category: Dead Fish (2005), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Ghosts, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:21:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8187643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: Danny knew he was in fecking trouble, he never watched the strippers until Lacey.





	

“Will ya fucking listen, mate! No means no! The lady doesn’t do private shows! Do I have to drill it in to your thick skull? Shall I write it down on a wee piece of paper and stick it up your fucking ugly nose? Now are you going to stop your fucking baby whining and sit the fuck down, or do I get the boys here to toss you out on your fucking arse?”

The moaning prat eyed the bouncers behind Danny and muttered something before slouching out of the door. Danny growled he really did not need this shit.

“Send Lacey to my fucking office pronto.”

The giant Dove nodded and headed off into the gloom of the club. Danny rolled his shoulders and stared at the stage, he wasn’t watching the bare arse and tits jiggling on stage, he was taking note of the fivers and teners that were moving from sweaty hands to garter belt. He grinned Ruby was making a fucking killing tonight, as usual. He gave a tight nod and headed to his office, dodging easily around staff and punters in the low light.

He was a bit put off to find Lacey there waiting for him, perched on the edge of his desk wearing a tiny silky blue robe and a smile.

“Hey Danny. What’s up?”

He hadn’t taken that long; how the fuck had she got here before him? He rallied and snapped; “Another fucking punter bitching about you not doing one on ones.”

Lacey shrugged; “That’s my rule Danny. I’m not changing it just because some punters get lippy. Besides I think you like having the chance to yell at the idiots.”

He frowned at her, but there wasn’t a whole fuck of a lot he could say to repute that, he did like shouting and had perfected the art till it was a fucking super power. He ran his hand over his hair and gave a frustrated sigh.

“Will ya at least think about doing some one on ones? You’d make a fucking fortune Lace.”

She shook her head and hopped off the desk.

“It’s not going to happen, Danny.”

He opened his mouth, but snapped it closed. What could he say? The girls decided what they did and didn’t do in The Parrot. Danny, who proudly admitted to being a total arsehole with the fuckers who borrowed money off him, treated the girls right always had and always would. It was just good business sense. Lacey smiled and drifted by him to the door, her hand brushed his arm and he shivered. Lacey always had that effect on him. He dropped himself into his egg chair and stretched his legs up the curved side as he tried to work out why he wanted Lacey to do one on ones. The thought of her in one of the back rooms dancing for some leering, sweaty punter made his blood boil, but the idea of her dancing for him put a smile on his face. He swung his legs to the floor and frowned. What the fuck? He never, not fucking once, took a private dance from any of the girls, never even considered it, but here he was with a growing stiffie imagining Lacey dancing just for him.

“Oh this isn’t fucking good.”

 

Danny didn’t watch the shows; there were always too many loan payments to pry out of idle fuckers, too much paperwork to do, too many bastards to shout at, so it came as something of a surprise to everyone when he settled into a booth and ordered a drink. Over the past few days he’d convinced himself that if he watched Lacey dance he’d get this whole fucking day dream out of his head for good. It was a bloody good plan, years of owning The Parrot and being surrounded by so much naked flesh had pretty much killed the appeal for him. He'd watched her strip, probably have a bit of a shout at her for fucking up some moves, and then he could get on with his life. No more awkward fucking boners for him thank you very fucking much.

In his mind it had been a fan-fucking-tastic plan. In reality it went to fucking hell in a fucking handbasket the fucking second Lacey strutted on to the fucking stage.

She was wearing a long floaty white gown. Danny’s experienced eye could spot the ties and slits that would be undone to tease the punters, but he couldn’t work out how she was making it float around her like that. He hadn’t paid for any fans for the stage, and the air in here was suddenly thick and still. He dragged his eyes from Lacey and raked them over the punters, none of them were whooping or cat calling, they were all watching Lacey with an intensity that made Danny’s knuckles itch, who the fuck did they think they were? Fucking staring at his Lacey like fucking perverts? Danny shook his head, what the fuck sort of thought was that for a fucking strip club owner?

His mind froze as Lacey started to dance, it was magic. She twirled and spun and made moves he knew for a fucking fact where bloody difficult look easy. When she peeled the dress off it floated away from her and hung in front of the curtain like it had a fucking mind of its own. He didn’t have time to wonder how the fuck she’d got it to do that because now Lacey was all but fucking naked on stage. Danny felt his jaw drop, and he didn’t give a flying fuck who saw him with his fucking gob hanging open like an idiot. Lacey glowed like a full fucking moon, all silvery white. Danny shivered, it was just a little bit spooky, but he couldn’t drag his eyes away from her. 

Lacey ended a complex twirl and found herself looking right at Danny. She faltered just a little and felt her leg slip through the pole. Damn it! She closed her eyes and concentrated, her grip shifted and she flipped herself backwards from the pole, turning an impossible somersault in mid-air before landing lightly on her feet and dropping into the splits. The lights when out and Lacey vanished from the stage under the cover of darkness. Behind the curtain she wrapped her robe around her and tried to think as the punters went wild. Was Danny out there cheering for her? He wouldn’t be throwing money at the stage, that wasn’t his style. The MC had to yell into his microphone to be heard over the din.

“You frightened her away! Behave yourselves and Spirit might be back later. Now welcome to the stage The Parrot Club’s very own naughty nurse, Annie!”

The punters were whistling and whooping again. Lacey smiled and headed to the changing rooms. Danny was leaning against the wall waiting for her.

“When you’re dressed I want a fucking word with you Lacey.”

He waited until she’d given him a nod before he walked away. Fuck it! She’d had a feeling that Danny would suss her out. Oh well, nothing to do now but face the music and start looking for a new job. She set her shoulders and stomped into the changing room. She was angry at herself for messing up, at least she could count on Danny for one thing, she could have a fucking good shouting match with him before she left The Parrot.

Danny made sure Lacey had closed his office door before he started ranting; his words came out in more of a hiss that a full throated yell. 

“Your leg went right through the fucking pole! How the fuck did you do that?”

Lacey rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips.

“I’ll bet that you’re the only one who saw that, every other punter was focused on my tits. You a leg man Danny Devine?”

Danny stepped back and stuttered; “Well, maybe, your legs for sure. But that’s neither here nor fucking there. How the fuck did you do that? And the floaty nightgown thing, how the fuck did you do that?”

She let her head drop to her chest and sighed in a way that would have impressed the heroine in a nineteenth century gothic romance. Her head rolled back up and she fixed Danny with a hard glare.

“I’m dead. I’m a ghost.”

As she expected Danny took a sharp breath, she was seventy per cent sure he would tell her that was impossible, the other thirty per cent was up in the air, because with Danny you could never be sure. She never would have guessed at his actual response.

“Oh that’s fucking great! What the fuck is Her Majesty’s Inland fucking Revenue gonna say about this? I’m paying tax and National Insurance for a fucking dead person! That’s fucking fraud that is!”

Lacey threw her head back and laughed; “Seriously? I tell you that I’m a ghost and the first thing you worry about is the taxman?”

Danny snapped his fingers and pointed at her; “Hey death only happens once, the fucking taxman visits every fucking year.”

Lacey shrugged; “Yeah, fair point, but you didn’t clock my paperwork as fake.”

Danny reeled back on his heels; “Well, no, you got good papers for a dead person.”

Lacey nodded and gave Danny the beat of time he needed, she saw the exact moment her vital state hit him. To drive the point home she walked through his desk. He surprised her, he didn’t back away, didn’t even flinch as she came to a halt mere inches from him. She watched as he inhaled and swallowed hard.

“So, you’re a ghost.”

“Yes Danny. I’m a ghost.”

“Well fuck me, that’s different.”


End file.
